The Snow Tower Crumbles
by Babble
Summary: In the years after Alduin's defeat, allies and enemies of the Dragonborn struggle to find purpose in a troubled Skyrim. Short stories about Ulfric Stormcloak, Teldryn Sero, and a few others. Companion piece to "The Death of the Dragonborn."


"Boy, get back in here!" Gunvid's father yelled from the open doorway.

The boy darted around the side of the house and then fell into the throng of people surrounding the main road. The small town of Ivarstead had not been this excited for months, and Gunvid wasn't going to miss it because of some stupid chores. His father's yelling was quickly drowned out by the rising clamor of voices in the crowd. Something was happening. Gunvid slipped through the people until he was in the front lines.

A black horse was trotting across the bridge. Gunvid had never seen anything like it. It had red eyes, the color of which reminded the boy of spilt chicken blood. It seemed wrong to Gunvid that something living should have eyes like that. He shuddered, prompting a growl from the burly man standing behind him.

The horse's rider was nearly as fearsome. He was a large man, probably a Nord, but Gunvid couldn't tell because of the heavy black cloak. _That must be him._ Gunvid's heart raced and he felt almost giddy.

The rider spurred his horse onward and then he was in front of the crowd. The people cheered and rumbled around Gunvid, pushing him painfully between them. Suddenly he couldn't see the rider anymore, having been shoved aside by the burly man.

"Hey!" Gunvid kicked the man's ankle from behind. Although only twelve years of age, the farm boy was strong from years of hard work. The man turned quickly and caught Gunvid's face with the back of his hand. The boy felt a flash of hot pain and then he was looking up at the enraged Nord.

"You little bastard!" The man's face was red with fury. The people around them had backed up cautiously. Gunvid gasped when the man's boot came to rest on his outstretched hand. The boot pressed down, slowly.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Tear ran down Gunvid's face as he felt his fingers compressing painfully. Soon enough they would be breaking under the man's heavy weight. _I should've stayed inside. I should've done my chores. Please forgive me, Talos._

Gunvid barely noticed the crowd around them clearing through the waves of agony running through his hand. A large figure had come forward to stand next to the burly man.

"Dragonborn." The man bowed his head in reverence, his boot still resting firmly on the boy's hand. "It's a privilege to meet you."

The figure said nothing, but walked slowly around to Gunvid, looking down at him. Gunvid could see lightly shaded skin under the figure's hood, a shade of gray so light it almost appeared blue. A short beard obscured the lower half of his face. Crimson eyes reminiscent of the black horse regarded Gunvid thoughtfully.

"Why are you hurting this boy?" The figure's voice was deep and rolling, like distant thunder.

The man's boot pressed down and Gunvid gasped again. "Little milk drinker needs to learn to respect his elders. Boy kicked my leg from behind, nearly made me fall."

"Ah." The figure moved from Gunvid to stand beside the man again. The crowd of people had formed a circle around the three. "You must be the most skilled warrior in this entire village."

The man chuckled. "I'd wager so. I'm on my way to Solitude, to join the Legion. There are no fighters in this stinky little farmtown." The people gathered around yelled and cursed at that, but the dark figure rose a hand and silence fell.

"What about me?" The figure asked after a moment. "Do you think you could best me in single combat?"

The man laughed nervously. "You're the Dragonborn. No one in Skyrim is your equal. Aside from that, you've not slighted me or mine."

The figure's leg flashed out from his cloak to strike the man in the back of the leg. The man yelled in surprise and collapsed to his knees. Gunvid felt the boot leave his fingers at last and pulled the hand to his chest protectively.

"There. Now I've done as much to you as that boy has." The figure looked down on Gunvid and the fallen man. "You didn't let him get away with it. Why should I?"

The man pushed himself to his feet, and Gunvid saw that it was no longer anger but now fear that ran through his eyes. "I can't fight you. You have the power of the Thu'um. It wouldn't be fair."

"I won't use my power." The figure knelt down and picked up Gunvid in his arms. He felt like a small child for a moment, but belatedly realized that to the seven foot Dragonborn he might as well be. The warm fur of the cloak pressed into Gunvid's face, comforting and thick. "We will fight man to man. Sword to sword."

The man swallowed and glanced around uneasily. The people in the crowd looked back at him, indifferent to this man who had insulted their village and threatened one of their own. "Fine, Dragonborn. I won't let my honor be challenged any longer."

The figure proceeded through the crowd with the man in tow. The black horse trotted forward and the figure dropped Gunvid into the saddle, and then the horse moved to the sidelines. _I'm on the Dragonborn's horse._ This whole day so far seemed like a strange dream to the boy.

The crowd had backed up further to provide room for the fight. The dark figure stood at one end of the road, and the burly man at the other. Neither had armor; the man wore a traveler's tunicand leather pants, while the figure was clad in his thick fur cloak. The man had twin swords on his belt, and the dark figure a greatsword on his back. Although the figure was tall and muscular, the man was not much smaller. To an unknowing observer this would appear to be a fair duel between equals.

Gunvid knew better.

A hush came over the watching inhabitants of the village. All eyes were on the dark figure to make the first move. For what seemed like forever, no living thing moved in the town of Ivarstead. And then the figure took a step forward.

Jaxius Amaton, the Last Dragonborn of Tamriel, pulled off his black cloak in a second. Before Gunvid could process what was happening, the Dark Elf warrior was sprinting towards the burly man with his greatsword drawn. The man drew his twin swords and backed up in a panic, stumbling over himself to dodge the Dragonborn's advance. Even with his fingers still throbbing, Gunvid felt sorry for the man. He also felt the greatest elation of his young life. All of the stories and songs were true. The Dragonborn was the most powerful hero Skyrim had ever known.

The two warriors finally reached each other. Jaxius Amaton hit with all of his strength, sending the man and his swords flying. The man fell to the ground with a heavy crash, already blubbering for his life. The tip of the Dragonborn's greatsword found his throat and he froze.

"You've lost." Jaxius's booming voice resonated throughout the village. "You are a coward, and will never join the Imperial Legion for as long as I live. You are banished from this town. Leave now while you still draw breath."

The Dragonborn turned and began to walk back towards Gunvid and the crowd. The boy was in a state of happiness he had never known. To have the slayer of Alduin himself save you from harm...he would have to thank Talos twice as much from now on.

"Damned gray-skin!" The burly man yelled, now on his feet again. "I always heard you were different, but now I can see you're just like the rest of them!"

Jaxius froze in between the man and Gunvid. With the dark cloak gone, the boy could see the Dragonborn's face clearly in the sunlight. The mighty warrior's hands had tightened into fists, and a dark shadow was passing over his face. Where there had been an agent of justice before, a vengeful dominator was taking over. Gunvid realized with growing horror that the dragon was coming forth from Jaxius Amaton.

The next few seconds happened so fast that Gunvid could scarcely believe his eyes.

" **WULD NAH KEST!"**

Amaton was in front of the man now, and his greatsword was passing through the man's chest. Bright red blood spurted from the wound and an ear-splitting howl dropped Gunvid's heart into his stomach. The greatsword flashed out again, and another slash joined the second one. Then the greatsword was discarded, and Jaxius was holding the man up with one hand on his throat. Strangled screams and blood trickled from the man's mouth.

With a roar of effort, Jaxius spun once and then threw as hard as he could. The defeated man landed with a crunch on the bridge. The crowd watched in horror as he struggled to squirm away from the oncoming Dark Elf.

 _No. This isn't right._ "He's beaten!" Gunvid yelled, but Jaxius continued towards the dying man. "Stop, please!"

With a determined whinny, the black horse under Gunvid began to move forward. At first the boy thought the horse meant to abduct him and nearly jumped off, but then the beast sprinted forward and past the Dragonborn. It turned to stop Jaxius in his tracks, its head raised in challenge.

"Shadowmere." The Dragonborn growled. "Move."

Shadowmere snorted in defiance, kicking dirt up with its hooves. For a moment Gunvid was certain that the Dragonborn would use a Shout and blow them to pieces, but then a change came over the seething man. His shoulders relaxed, and he looked down at his own blood-splattered clothes with disbelief.

"Oh, gods." Jaxius said in a quiet voice. "What have I done, Shadowmere? I didn't even try to stop myself."

Shadowmere trotted forward and licked the Dragonborn's face affectionately. "I killed a man for spraining someone's fingers." The people of Ivarstead were dispersing now, maintaining a fair distance between themselves and the trio.

Gunvid felt the Dragonborn's strong hands lift him from the saddle and place him gently on the ground. The Dark Elf looked down on him with sadness and, to Gunvid's surprise, shame.

"I'm sorry you had to see that." Jaxius said. "Sometimes I can not control the dragon inside of me."

"It's okay." Gunvid felt ridiculous trying to forgive the Dragonborn. "You're a hero, the greatest hero ever. You can do whatever you want."

Jaxius smiled wistfully. "If only the world was so simple. There are no heroes, boy. A man's actions define his purpose, not the other way around. Just or unjust. Right or wrong."

"Gunvid!" The boy could hear his father yelling for him again. _He'll never believe what happened, not in a million years._

The Dragonborn had put his cloak back on and lumbered into Shadowmere's saddle. Behind them, a couple of men were carrying the burly man's body away.

"Well, goodbye." Gunvid said, feeling small again compared to the Dragonborn on his towering steed.

Jaxius said nothing, but nodded to him respectfully before spurring Shadowmere forward. Soon enough the man and his horse were a distant sight, and Gunvid finally heeded his father's call. That night Gunvid would dream of Jaxius Amaton, and many decades later he would reverently recall the day he met the Last Dragonborn.


End file.
